Movie Night Madness

Book 17: Firefly Junction Cozy Mystery

by London Lovett

Genres: Mystery; Cozy Mystery; Paranormal Cozy Mysteries

Synopsis

Firefly Junction is back for Book 17 with Movie Night Madness!

Sunni Taylor and her boyfriend, Detective Jackson, have big plans for a family farm at her home, Cider Ridge Inn. A barn plan has been chosen and the site’s been cleared. Their dreams are getting closer. But when the usual rift between Jackson and his long dead ancestor, Edward Beckett, grows wider and more thorny, Sunni finds herself in an impossible situation—how can the three of them ever be happy under the same roof?

With her own troubles abounding, Sunni finds herself distracted by the town’s latest tragedy. A wealthy and well-known (but not well-liked) land developer is shot during Firefly Junction’s annual end-of-summer movie night. Sunni sets aside her personal problems and resolves to find the killer. But solving a murder is never easy when the victim has a long list of enemies.


More in the series:

1. Death in the Park
2. Killer Bridal Party
3. Murder at the Inn
4. A Humbug Holiday
5. Calamity at the Carnival
6. Double Trouble
7. Havoc at Wildwood Manor
8. Fatal Feud
9. Trick or Trouble
10. A Crafty Killing
11. Death at the Museum
12. Murder at the Pumpkin Patch
13. Founders’ Day Fiasco
14. Heat Wave Homicide
15. Terror at Thornbridge Hotel
16. Chocolate Festival Felony
17. Movie Night Madness
18. Figgy Pudding Disaster

 

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Release date: August 14, 2023

Publisher: Wild Fox Press

Print pages: 200

Sample

CHAPTER 1

 

Jax, I could use your help," I called out the back door. Somehow, I'd brilliantly (yes, sarcasm) come up with the idea to hold a barn raising party. We were only at the barn planning stages. There would be no jovial gathering of neighbors to help us build the thing, especially considering we hadn't ordered one piece of lumber yet. The actual raising of the barn was at least half a year off, but Jackson, my boyfriend and future farm mate, had finally picked the plans, a traditional gambrel roof barn that would eventually be painted the traditional red and white. After looking at thousands of images of barns across the country and the world, we both kept coming back to the gambrel style. Nothing said country living like a traditional red barn.

Jackson and my highly-skilled brother-in-law, Nick, had spent the last few days clearing the land and measuring and marking corner spots with stakes and flags. They were so excited about getting the rudimentary measurements and markers placed that I decided we needed to celebrate their progress. Unfortunately, having a celebration also meant preparing food and drinks. I was much better at coming up with brilliant plans than I was at executing them. My sisters, Lana and Emily, were far better at the hostess gig. They both insisted on bringing dishes, not so much out of generosity as from worry that I'd do a shabby job of it. I should've been insulted, only they were probably right to worry.

The back door opened and shut. One tall, dust-covered man and two equally dusty dogs came lumbering inside.

"If you guys could figure out a way to leave more of the yard outside that would be appreciated," I said tersely. I wasn't mad at Jackson or the two very dirty dogs. I was mad at the tray of mini quiches that had just come out of the oven. They'd all sunk in the middle, and they were burned around the edges. It was Emily's recipe, of course, but hers always looked like perfect golden domes. Mine were sad little puddles.

Jackson pounded his shoes on the rubber mat in front of the door. "Sunni, I was thinking—I'm going to need a place to take off my boots. Otherwise, I'll be tracking a lot more than yard into the house."

"We can talk about that later," I said curtly, then took a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm cranky because my food looks like something—like something—" I surveyed the tray of chocolate and peanut butter cookies, also slightly overdone and none of them the soft pillows of confectionary delight that Emily always produced. "Well, like something that I made."

Jackson smiled. (His smile always helped.) "Everything looks delicious." (The white lies helped too.) He strolled over and hugged me. He'd brought a layer of dust into the embrace, but I wasn't going to complain because I'd needed the hug.

"This is a kitchen. Not a bordello," Edward said offhandedly. He was still glued to my computer screen. I'd found my laptop quite helpful when I needed to keep my energetic and ever-present ghost occupied.

Jackson gave me a questioning look. "What's he watching?"

I motioned for Jackson to turn away from Edward and lowered my voice. "It's a little

 Mommy trick. You know how our parents used to turn on cartoons or a Disney movie and they told us it was so we could have a break and rest, but it was actually so they could have a break and rest?"

"Sure do. Power Rangers were my official babysitters after I'd stood on my mom's last nerve."

"Exactly." I lowered my voice even more. Our heads were dipped together. "Well, when I need a break from a certain ghost, I turn on the computer."

"You're not going to tell me that Gramps is watching Little Mermaid." Jackson glanced over his shoulder. Edward was still staring at the monitor.

"Nope. He's watching vintage Stevie Nicks music videos. He has a big crush on her."

"May I remind you that I walk through walls," Edward drawled without looking away from the screen. "You could be standing on the top floor at the end of the hallway, and I'd still hear you."

Jackson shook his head. "Creepy thing to know," he said to me pointedly. "He can hear us no matter where we are." He added another pointed look.

I shrugged sheepishly. "What can I say? He came with the house." It was little consolation, but I didn't have a solution. We had no privacy at Cider Ridge. While Edward never came down the hallway to what he considered 'my private chambers,' there was no denying that his presence was everywhere. Jackson and I were never truly alone.

"And Edward Beckett is not someone who has crushes," Edward continued, even after hearing the awkward turn in conversation.

"All right, an infatuation," I said sharply.

"No infatuations, no crushes, no banal demonstrations of passion—" He looked directly at Jackson on that phrase.

"Cool your jets, Gramps. We've all had a thing for Stevie at one time or another. You're just a little old and dead, so that makes it weird." That was Jackson getting back at Edward for the earlier comment. The insults were about to be lobbed back and forth across the kitchen like a volleyball, so I stepped in to cut the game short.

"Nope, not today. I've got guests coming. Jackson, I need you to carry the plates and silverware out to the table. And you—" I headed toward Edward. "I don't think you've seen Stevie singing 'Sara' on stage." I quickly pulled up the video and hit play.

"Yes, I've seen this.

She's wearing those strange shoes."

I lifted my hand over the keyboard to find another video.

"No, this one is fine. Leave it."

Jackson was shaking his head as he carried the tray with the plates and silverware out to the table. The front door opened as the back door snapped shut. The dogs, Redford and Newman, left a trail of dust as they loped off to greet Lana and Raine.

I followed them to the entry. Lana handed me a bowl of her spinach dip, so she could greet the dogs properly. Raine, my best friend and local psychic, rushed past without a word. She was hoping to snatch a quick visit with Edward while my sister was occupied with the dogs.

Lana patted Redford. "You gorgeous man." She laughed. "Such an appropriate name for him." She lifted the pink cap she was wearing and brushed a few stray hairs back before replacing it. It was late summer, but the sun was still strong in the evening. I'd advised everyone to wear hats and sunglasses because even though we were technically eating inside the barn, there was no actual barn to protect us from the elements. "Sorry we're late. I had to wait for Rupert Madison's assistant to deliver the candy bars he had specially made for movie night." Lana rolled her eyes. She ran a thriving party-planning business, but she always made time to help with community projects. "If that man's ego grows any bigger, there won't be room for the rest of us on the planet."

"Rupert Madison," I repeated. "He's that big shot developer who is trying to build a shopping center off Kent Road."

"That's him. It'll happen. That man barrels through landscape with his housing developments and shopping centers like a category 5 tornado."

We headed toward the kitchen, but I kept the pace slow so Raine would have a few more seconds alone with Edward. Aside from Jackson, Raine was the only other person who knew Edward existed. In the short time she'd known him (if that's what it could be called) she'd fallen head over heels in love with him. And that was not an exaggeration. Even though Edward was mostly arrogant and even cold to her, she grew starry-eyed in his presence. I was likening it to that guy you had a big crush on in high school, and his utter indifference only made him that much more appealing. We were all gluttons for punishment, it seemed. For obvious reasons, Raine's infatuation with Edward was even more nonsensical than a shy, awkward wallflower pining over the most popular boy in school because Edward Beckett was out of bounds, literally.

Raine sealed her mouth shut as we stepped into the kitchen. Edward was still occupied with the video.

Lana stopped right in front of the computer and directly in the middle of Edward's image

 Raine gasped quietly. For a brief, surreal moment in time, my sister was wearing a nineteenth century waistcoat, and Edward was wearing a pink cap.

Edward snapped back angrily. "How rude," he snarled before vanishing.

"I love Fleetwood Mac," Lana said. Her brows furrowed, and she shook her body slightly. "Is it a little cold in here?"

Raine covered her mouth to muffle a snicker.

I ignored the question. "Raine, could you carry the tray of quiches out to the yard. Jackson has a buffet table set up. Lana and I will be right behind with everything else. Em and Nick should be here soon."

Raine looked down at the tray. "Are these the quiches?"

This time it was Lana's turn to stifle a snicker.

"Yes," I said haughtily, "those are quiches."

Raine worked hard to hold back a smile as she carried the tray out to the invisible barn.

Lana and I got to work arranging fruit and freshly cut veggies on platters. "You never said—how are you involved with Madison's candy bars and movie night?"

"He ended up being the biggest donor to the end-of-summer fair and movie night, so the city council told him he could add his personalized candy bars

to the movie treat bags. I'm in charge of those this year. I've got to fill two hundred treat bags for Tuesday night's big event."

"I love the end-of-summer fair and movie. Which movie did they pick this year?" I placed peach slices in a row on the platter. Emily's peach trees had been picked nearly clean. I was going to miss them. Fortunately, Emily canned some of her fruit to be enjoyed in the dead of a frosty winter.

"I guess I forgot to tell you." Lana was placing carrot sticks in a flower pattern on the tray. "They chose Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."

"Great! Did you hear that, Redford and Newman, you're going to be on the big screen on movie night." Neither dog lifted its head. "I haven't seen that movie in a long time. Jackson will be happy to hear it. He loves that one." I stepped back from my fruit platter. It looked amateurish compared to Lana's artistically designed vegetable platter.

I sighed dejectedly. "Why didn't I get even an ounce of the hostess gene when both my sisters are Martha Stewart clones?"

Lana reached over and put her arm around my shoulder for a hug. "Because, while you were outside running around playing football and baseball with the boys in the neighborhood, Emily and I were inside learning how to be mini-Marthas. Besides, I couldn't write my way out of a paper bag."

"But Emily can," I complained. "Her blog posts put my newspaper articles to shame, and I went to school for it."

Lana lowered her arm and patted my back. "Yes, but as we both know, Emily came from another planet where everyone is born beautiful and perfect and talented."

"Wish Mom had visited that planet before she had me," I muttered as we picked up the trays to carry outside.

CHAPTER 2

The barn dinner, sans the actual barn, had been a great success. Even my quiches were eaten. We'd finished the meal with one of Emily's strawberry cheesecakes, and everyone went home complaining about being too full. Coco and Sassy, our two goats and the first inhabitants of our future farm, nibbled on carrot sticks as they hopped around what would eventually be their future barn.

Jackson carried in the last tray. He looked weary but content and very suntanned. "You should have put on more sunblock," I noted as I dried the dishes. "Three days out in the yard under that hot sun has made you look like a true farmer. No complaints here, except I don't want you to look leathery like my old softball coach, Mr. Melville."

"I don't know, I think I'd look good in leather," Jackson quipped. "What should I do with the leftover fruit and veggies?"

"Wrap them up and put them in the refrigerator." I turned back to the sink. The cleanup after a party was always one of the pitfalls that kept me from throwing more celebrations. But this one had been worth it. We'd had a great time, and it was a nice way to close out summer. The local schools opened next Monday, and the town always held a big all-day fair and carnival event the week before. The day's festivities ended with an early evening movie for the little ones. ...